The Joy of Getting Stoned: Virginia-Highland, Georgia Baptists, and Jesus

Perhaps the greatest difficulty in writing today's sermon was in choosing a
proper introduction, finding ways to be witty and humorous while seeking to
garner your rapt attention and your totally engaged and engrossed focus as you
listen to and ponder these homiletically charged words. I mean, how does one
make light of death and dying, of mayhem, martyrdom, and murder, of burnings,
and stonings, and crucifixions? For, it is the very disconcertedness of such
subjects that illicits nervous laughter and the very real need for a light
moment. Well, there's not going to be one!

I decided that the only proper introduction to this sermon, a sermon textually
rooted in Luke's recounting of Stephen's stoning and contextually centered on
our congregation's present situation, that is our relationship to the Georgia
Baptist Convention, would be a panoramic survey of persecution and martyrdom
down through the ages, both from within and outside of the church. For those of
you who are not aware, our congregation has been charged with improper ministry
to homosexual persons, folk not referred to in the official notification letter
as persons of gay and lesbian orientation. More about that later!

Do you know how long it would take to even provide a glimpse of the numbers of
faithful folk killed because of their Christian belief, or killed because of an
accusation of heresy leveled against them? Trust me, more time than you or I
care to give it. Heresy, merely a belief, a view, or interpretation, be it
doctrinal or theological, deemed contrary to the accepted orthodox restraints
of the Church at particular times and places. We could start with the Roman
emperor Nero, who according to the historian Tacitus, blamed Christians for the
burning of Rome and had many of them put to death. The charge, hating humanity.
Incredible! Some of those convicted were torn by dogs, others were crucified,
and some were burned to provide light for the evening circus performances.

We
could speak about many early leaders in the church. We could talk about the
Inquisitions, in which Christians killed persons of other faiths, particularly
Muslims, in the name of religious conformity. We might talk about the heroes of
the reformation, many of whom were killed for espousing new thoughts and ideas,
radical notions that threatened systems and traditions long stagnated from
institutional inflexibility, inhospitality, and inbreeding. Of John Huss, a
disciple of John Wycliffe, who audaciously espoused that Christ and not the
Pope was the true head of the church, and that the New Testament was the
guiding law for Christians. What heresy! Summoned to the Council of Constance
in 1415 to discuss his views, he was promised safe conduct if he would attend.
As church historian Robert Baker notes, the Roman bishop violated the promise,
however, remarking that the church did not need to keep its word with heretics.

Something to remember as we interact with the Georgia Baptist Convention. Huss
was condemned by the Council and was burned at the stake . . . A follower,
Jerome of Prague, suffered the same fate months later. These killings led to
open revolt known as the Hussite wars, a political and religious conflict which
lasted until about 1435. Oppression often leads to revolution and the human
quest for freedom and liberty of conscience. Something else to remember as we
interact with the Georgia Baptist Convention.

Or, how about the incredibly inclusive and totally tolerant practices of the
great reformer John Calvin, who galvanized power in Geneva Switzerland and
sought to create the ultimate theocracy by making the city a model of a
perfected Christian community. All of Genevan life was micro-managed by Calvin
who, as Williston Walker notes, maintained constant and minute supervision.
Despite frequent challenges, Calvin withstood opposition, even to the point of
participating in the trial, condemnation and burning at the stake of Miguel
Servetus, found guilty in several publications of untold theological
indiscretions which dared to question or possibly even doubt the inerrant,
infallible Institutes on the Christian Religion, Calvin's very own theological
treatise and a blue print for joyous living in Geneva. Walker says that it was
a great victory for Calvin who settled once and for all by his inestimable
standards the centuries old debate surrounding the doctrine of the Trinity,
thus securing his power and status, and protecting Geneva once and for all from
the ever-festering boil of heresy and the ever present and dangerous threat of
theological inquiry, discourse, and dialogue. Nothing is more deadly to
dictatorships, religious or political, than an environment which encourages and
fosters free thinking and the nurture of divergent ideas and philosophies.
Aside from his writings, which have added much to the Church's theology and
doctrine, part of Calvin's legacy along with countless others, has been to
assist in perpetuating and solidifying that famous mantra of the church, it's
my way or the highway. Frightening is the thought indeed that a large segment
of Southern Baptists are trying to return the church to the reformed tradition
rooted in Calvin's theology and Calvin's Geneva. An American theocracy, an
American Geneva, that is their goal. God save us if this far flung enterprise
is ever achieved.

The Text

All of that brings us to the story of Stephen and what it means to stand firm
in the faith while enduring life in the midst of intolerance, injustice, and
inquisition, persecution and condemnation. The story of Stephen is the Church's
story. It is the story of countless individuals whose unwavering faith in
Christ and whose courageous living of the Gospel placed them in harm's way,
even to the point of torture and death. Stephen was neither the Christ, nor an
apostle. He was chosen as one of the first deacons of the young church. Stephen
was anyone and everyone whose lives have been transformed by the risen Christ,
and the humble and beautiful life lived by Jesus of Nazareth. Stephen is you
and me.

Stephen's story proves to be a watershed event in the book of Acts, a pivot
point as one commentator calls it. Stephen's stoning signals a dramatic shift
between those solely committed to their religious tradition, and those who had
embraced the Christ event as a continuing part of their heritage, another
component of their faith pilgrimmage and process. Memories still lingered of
the days when Jews and Jewish Christians worshipped together in the temple.
But, the temple was now history, lying in ruins, destroyed in 70 c.e. by the
Roman emperor Titus, Jewish Christians long having been expelled.

As a deacon, Stephen was far more than a table waiter, he went well beyond the
required distribution of food to widows and orphans. Described as full of grace
and power,he was a second-generation preacher who carried out great wonders
and signs among the people, much like the first-generation apostles from whom
he had been taught. He is charged with slandering Moses, the standard bearer
for the law, the Torah, and with blaspheming God in his pronouncement that
Jesus would destroy the temple, the house of Yahweh, and would forever alter
the cultic practices therein. Oh, the dangers with tampering with the worship
service!

As one commentator has noted, the charge against Stephen is religious
innovation. It was a charge that could not be substantiated, and was even
refuted by Stephen as he preached his heart out, painstakingly describing the
continuity between the tradition of old and the new thing taking place within
their midst. His sermon is meticulously detailed, beginning with Abraham and
telling the salvation history of Israel, of Isaac and Jacob, the twelve
patriarchs and Joseph, of Moses and Aaron and the Exodus from Egypt into the
land promised by God. Perhaps Stephen sealed his fate, when at the climax of
his message he prophetically concluded,
You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are forever
opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the
prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the
coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and
murderers. You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and
yet you have not kept it.
No surprise that it was about that same time that the rocks started flying and
Stephen was stoned to death.

William H. Willimon notes that the story of Stephen reminds us practitioners of
polite, civil, mentally balanced religion (I am just not going there) that
once there were Christians who quite joyfully parted with possessions, family,
friends, even life itself in order to remain faithful. He adds that,
Luke does not demean the sacrifice of Stephen by reducing his death to
psychological or sociological factors, the way that our media" (would do).
Rather, Luke sees Stephen as a hero of the faith, a quite rational person who
died for the same faith by which he lived. Indeed not to die for what you hold
most dear would seem, to the church of Acts, to be the essence of
irrationality, even insanity. So many Christians (and Jesus) died at the hands
of the Empire because it was impossible to reconcile the Christian claim--that
is, that God, not nations, rules the world--with those of a progressive world
empire....

The results of inquisition and persecution are far less drastic and noteworthy,
not to mention costly, than in the days of Stephen, yet the stakes are no less
high, the witness no less important, the faith no less in the balance. As Paul
articulated so clearly in his letter to the Ephesians, our struggle is not
against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the
authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the
spiritual forces of evil in heavenly places. The King James' Version refers to
powers and principalities. Paul then instructs, "therefore take up the whole
armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having
done everything, to stand firm. I believe today's translation would be, strap
it on .... ". Like Stephen, who bravely faced the rocks that carved pieces from
his flesh as they struck him, we are confronted by those who are forever
opposing the Holy Spirit. The issue before us is no different, will we follow
tradition and the law, or will we follow Jesus and his Gospel?

The writer of First Peter says that it is a stone that makes them stumble, and
a rock that makes them fall, an obvious allusion to Jesus the living stone,
the corner stone. My take on that is that any element of the Gospel can have
that same affect, can cause one to stumble and fall if it is denied or
dismissed. It is the same as denying Christ. As Virginia-Highland faces these
coming days and wrestles with its response to the Georgia Baptist Convention,
the cause of peace and justice, as it relates to any of the least of these in
our world, hangs in the balance. We are called to speak a word for them,
because whenever and wherever any of God's children, our brothers and sisters,
are oppressed or rendered as second-class, the body of Christ suffers and Jesus
is crucified once more. This action by the Georgia Baptist Convention, this
cleansing of the temple, this ethnic cleansing if you will pardon that image,
of interpreting and regarding as sinful a mystery of God's creative power and
purpose, is but another stone hurled by the church and against the church for
which Christ died. One death, his death, is more than a plenty.

Stones have an interesting role in today's texts. They can kill when hurled,
they can serve as a refuge, a strong fortress, a place of shelter, they can be
a cornerstone, the walls of a house, an impediment that makes one stumble and
fall. We can identify the stones being hurled our way from the Georgia Baptist
Convention. We probably cannot control or change that. We can stand tall while
they strike us, or we can duck, but the stones will keep coming. We can,
however, determine what kind of stones we will be. Figuratively speaking, we
know that we are going to be killed, it is simply a matter of choosing how we
will die, the kind of death we will experience. That it is a very Jesus thing
to do! First Peter tells us that we

...are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, in
order that (we) may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called (us) out of
darkness into his marvelous light. Once (we) were not a people, but now (we)
are God's people; once (we) had not received mercy, but now (we) have received
mercy.

Choose to be that kind of stone. Don't let the Georgia Baptist Convention or
anyone take that away from you. Don't allow anyone or any entity to play God
with your faith, your beliefs, your experience. Don't let anyone tell you that
your spiritual journey, your relationship with God, your walk with the Christ
of the Gospels, is invalid. Rest assured that the promise of a home with God
has been prepared for you, and that it cannot and will not be taken away from
you. There is a place for you, and that image should be as strong for us as it
was for the disciples, those Jewish Christians who felt cut off, who perceived
that their ancestral land and heritage was being taken away from them as they
were kicked out of the temple. John's words are words of assurance for any who
feel displaced, disenfranchised. No one can take that place or this place from
us. A place has been prepared for all of us. Thanks be to God.

Conclusion

Recently, Bill Moyers interviewed Archbishop Desmond Tutu regarding the
difficult years of oppression in South Africa. Responding to a question about
the seemingly endless sense of hopelessness surrounding those dire
circumstances, Tutu stated that no situation is beyond transformation; no
situation is beyond hope.

As we enter into this process of response, an unknown journey leading to a
known conclusion, perhaps our witness will one day bring about transformation.
We know the outcome. Like, Jesus, we set our face toward Jerusalem where a
cross awaits. We cannot look back. Perhaps our message can be like that of the
angel at the empty tomb, come and see. Maybe we can even find real joy in
getting stoned.

As we face the 1990's version of the Inquisition, may we find the courage to
have faith like Peter's, as solid as a rock, and resolve like the martyrs of
old. Perhaps our mantra will echo those famous words of the great reformer,
Martin Luther, who came close on several occasions, but who was never martyred
for his cause, the cause of making the Church accountable to Christ and his
Gospel instead of the authority of human dictated decrees, doctrines, and
dogmas, while all the while living with the very real and present threat found
in the narrowly created traditions of institutional religion. Responding to his
inquisitor, Eck, John of Trier by name, at the Diet of Worms, and facing
charges of heresy, being castigated that his plea to be heard from Scripture is
the one always made by heretics. You do nothing but renew the errors of Wyclif
and Hus, Luther humbly replied that,

Since then Your Majesty and your lordships desire a simple reply, I will answer
without horns and without teeth. Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain
reason--I do not accept the authority of popes and councils, for they have
contradicted each other--my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot
and I will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right
nor safe. Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.

For once, and only once, allow me the honor of speaking for Virginia-Highland
Baptist Church to the charges brought against us by the Georgia Baptist
Convention, Here we stand. We can do no other. Amen.